


All the Fun for Peter

by Unne



Series: Fun for Peter [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Dom Peter Hale, M/M, Masturbation, Maybe Some Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 13:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15316863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unne/pseuds/Unne
Summary: Stiles gets what he has always wanted.Derek gets what he was afraid to want.Peter gets all the fun.





	All the Fun for Peter

**Author's Note:**

> So here is the threesome. It is the smuttiest thing I have ever written. Not even nearly sorry.
> 
> Thanks to my patient beta Muykke who doesn't even ship steter, or - God forbid - steterek, but had to read it and supported me all the same:)

"I was thinking about Derek"

Peter slightly lifts his head from the pillow in astonishment and presses his fingers deeper into the flesh of Stiles' hips.

"Really, baby boy? You are thinking about Derek while I allow you to ride me? Such insolence deserves severe punishment and is - frankly speaking - offending".

Stiles grins smugly. He is completely naked, straddling fully-dressed (but for his upstanding cock) Peter and moves rhythmically over him while biting on his lower lip in pleasure. Peter rarely indulges him in that way, prefering to fuck him from behind - really, his control kink is enormous, but Stiles is pretty sure the werewolf is as fond of this particular activity as he is. He knows it, because Peter never shuts up in his dirty-talk about his darling boy looking so lovely when bouncing on his dick, fucking himself on his hard cock so eagerly, riding him like a hungry slut, and so on and so forth. Fucking hypocrite. Not that Stiles minds. Not at all.

"I was thinking that we have misused him", Stiles says while lifting his hips and sinking down on Peter's dick particularly deep. The werewolf snarls and breethes through gritted teeth before he is able to answer.

"What do you mean, little one?"

"Oh, you know", Stiles is panting now, slightly exhausted already. "We left him all alone", another sensual long movement of his hips driving a low moan out of Peter. "Frustrated. Aroused. Hard as rock", Stiles moves faster now, impaling himself violently on Peter's dick. "With nothing but his right hand to give him... satisfaction", Stiles throws back his head, unable to control himself any more. "Oh fuck, Daddy, that fells so good".

Peter growles softly in approval.

"Come on, baby. Take what you need from your generous Daddy".

"So I was thinking... Uh uh uh", Stiles says while Peter finally wrapps his hand over his painfully hard cock. "Maybe we should ask him to join us?"

Peter's voice sounds hoarse now that is an unmistakable sign of approaching orgasm.

"So that you could suck him off while I fuck you? Or it is he who will be sucking you while I push myself into your tight little ass? Or maybe you want to fuck him yourself under my directions and with a couple of my fingers up your own ass?"

Somehow this exact image does it for Stiles - he gaspes and comes all over Peter's shirt - a crime that will for certain cost him red and swollen ass-cheeks later that evening, but for now he is rewarded with the delightful feeling of a twisting strong body under him and the sight of Peter's O face.  
Stiles falls on Peter's chest, unable to move a limb, not to mention rolling off.

"You know, Daddy, I thought I would have to cajole you into it for a week at least. For a whole week full of blowjobs, rough fucking and all the tortures you would have invented specially for this case"

A self-satisfied chuckle escapes Peter's lips.

"You sound almost dissapointed. Still could be arranged, little one. However, I have to admit that corrupting my dear puritan nephew is a treat in itself. We need a masterplan".

They look at each other and grinn in an identically evil way.

***

Derek will deny it to his death-bed. Whoever it is to have courage enough to interrogate him on the subject, he will totally and decisively deny it.  
So he _was not_ lurking from behind the loft door when his dear uncle and his even more dear Stiles were having their hot and dirty, mind-blowing even to the passive onlooker first sex. And God damn them, their second, third and all following times were even better. Of course, Derek knows nothing about it. He definetely wouldn't occupy a tree that stood so conviniently close to the windows of Peter's apartment to have a guilty pleasure of watching Stiles come again and again under skilfull hands, tongue and other body parts of his uncle. It would be gross. Sick. Perverted.  
And surely he averted his eyes and turned deaf ear when the couple started groping in dark corners right at his own loft during pack nights. Really, shame is a foreign word to those two."It runs in the family", his subconciousness sings in all-too-familiar viperish and yet angelic voice, but Derek chooses to ignore it.  
And he certainly _is not_ jerking off right now, while thinking of Stiles and Peter, entangled together, moving frantically against each other, moaning and growling in anticipation of coming pleasure.  
Crap. Derek is a voyeur.  
And even worse. Sometimes in his fantasies they are moaning his name in unison: "Derek, so good".  
Derek will deny it to his deathbed too.

***

"I cannot believe it!", Stiles is pacing the room nervously, his hands tugging at the hems of his shirt. "No wolfsbane alcohol! No wolfsbane drugs! How come that you werewolves have not invented some stuff you could have fun with during the centuries of your existence?!"

"Little one, stop fidgeting", Peter says softly, but intreatingly enough for Stiles to land down hastily on the carpet at his feet.

"Werewolves are apex predators, we know how to have fun without poisoning ourselves with... stuff, as you choose to name it".

Stiles mumbles something about poor bambies, but Peter interrupts him by unceremouniously shoving a couple of fingers into his mouth.

"Here, occupy that restless toungue of yours otherwise and listen closely".

Stiles tries to pout, but it is rather difficult when Peter is determined to train your gag reflex while lecturing you. Oh God, this man and his kinks.  
Stiles starts to suck and lick the offered fingers, knowing better by now not to break an eye-contact. Submit and obey, and you will get what you want from Peter. Well, if it suits him, of course.

"Besides we don't want to lure Derek into our arms and on your dick - oh, I love it when you blush, sweetheart, so nice that something can still make you blush after all that I did to you - by getting him drunk or stoned. What fun would it be? No, we want him to give in to his darker side willingly, fully aware of what he is doing"

"Dn't thnk it possbl"

"What did I say about talking with your mouth full, sweetheart? It is possible. I have been watching him closely since our first encounter and have come to a certain conclusion. Derek has more under the surface than you can imagine. We just need to scratch a little and you will see. We shall begin like this..."

***

Ok, Derek has to admit it, he is a pervert. But it is surely not his fault. He blames Peter. It is certainly his influence during his earlier years that brought Derek to have the thoughts he had now. Depravity he has inherited from his damned uncle. Speaking of the devil.

"What are you doing here?", Derek snaps even before the loft door slid open to reveal Peter, all non-chalant and smiling, reeking of Stiles over his usual damned scent. Very pleasant scent. _Stop it, Derek. Bad wolf._

"Nice to see you too, alpha mine. I have been doing fine, thank you for asking. A bit busy lately, as you probably could guess, but nothing, even my insatible and demanding twink, would stop me from performing my family and pack duty to you..."

Peter doesn't have a chance to finish the sentence as he gets suddenly very occupied with trying to unstuck himself from the wall Derek violently threw him into.

"What. Do. You. Want", Derek repeats through gritted teeth, eyes Alpha-red and fangs showing.

"Well", Peter proceeds once he managed to stand straight, totally undisturbed by the 'warm' welcome. "I wanted to let you slap me around until you feel better about Stiles choosing me over you and then we could talk. So pray, nephew, continue what you started. I am at your mercy", and Peter spreads his arms in an invinting gesture.

"Peter", growls Derek.

"What, alpha mine? Should I asume some other... position?". Peter winks at him wickedly while Derek manages simulteniously to blush, growl and curse the day when his grandparents decided that one child was not enough.

"Out", Derek rambles as he feels his self-control slipping. "Out. Now". He can't trust himself to resist the tempting offer.

 _Which one, Derek_? Must it always be Peter's voice that asks awkward questions in his head?  
Peter smirks, but obeys. Once he is already facing the loft door he half-turns his head and says softly:

"He still thinks about you, you know. Even when we are having sex, he thinks about you".

Derek feels suddenly unable to move or to utter a sound.

"And surprisingly enough, I don't mind", Peter adds in even softer voice and leaves before Derek can find his words.

***

Stiles adores the man. Stiles adores the ground he steps on. It is pure delight to watch cunning, brilliant, devious Peter Hale in the act of seduction. He finds it harder and harder to wipe admiration off his face during pack nights when he follows Peter's movements about the loft, listens to his oh-so-casual remarks to Derek, notices so carefully placed touches and hints. Probably Peter notices it too, because he sneaks to slap Stiles' nape slightly on his way to the kitchen, quite unobserved by the pack.  
Oh right. It is time for Stiles to step in. He pulls a lollipop out of his pocket, takes his time to unwrap it and starts licking and sucking on it trying to look as seductive as possible. Derek swallows audibly, but proceeds with his alpha speech he chose to bore the pack with this evening.  
Stiles pops the candy out of his mouth with an obscene sound and licks his lips slowly and carefully.

"Der, hey, take a look, have I smeared my chin?", Stiles interrupted his alfa medsentece and tried to reach the said chin with his pink toungue.

"No. Stiles. Do you mind if I continue, please?", Derek sounds calm and slightly irritated, but Stiles can clearly see Peter behind his back who sniffs the air and nods to Stiles to proceed.

"Wait wait wait. Tell me if I have made a mess of myself? Do I have caramel all over my mouth?"

"Dude, really?", Scott cries out in frustration.

"Wait, it's important! Derek, look at my mouth? Is it dirty or not?"

Derek looks like he is wishing he was not in the room full of werewolves who are right now trying to ignore the details of his complicated personal life as hard as they can.  
Lydia rolls her eyes as she loses her patience, takes a napkin from the table and snaps at Stiles:

"C'm here. I will take care of you and your mouth".

Stiles avoids her touch like a cat who doesn't want to be petted.

"Ok, ok, if _not a single Alpha_ wants to take care of me, I will take care of myself. At the bathroom, yeah!", and he heads off there muttering something about cold and stupid werewolves.

In the bathroom he barely has time to clean his chin and lips before he is crowded to the wall by a werewolf. By a hot and smart one.

"Was it good? Did I do well?"

"You (a lick on his neck) were (a small, barely painful bite) absolutely (Peter's hand in his hair) awful. Looked stupid. Childish. Amateur", Peter pauses. "Worked for me though."

And the hand in Stiles' hair gently, yet firmly urges him onto his knees.

***

Derek needs to cool his head down a bit. An old good run in the preserve is his idea of cooling down. Unfortunately for him he never bothered to keep it a secret. So when he catches a painfully familar scent he is not surprised. Frustrated - yes, surprised - no. Those two perverts have been sieging him for a month now. Hinting, manipulating, seducing, vaguely suggesting, openly promising unforgettable bliss once he's surrended. All for nothing. Derek is strong. Derek won't give in to his carnal desires, because it is just wrong. _Derek is a fool,_ his wolf whines, but stays completely ignored. Derek has his dignity to think about after all. He has been rejected once, because he is too vanilla, thank you very much. Now he will let Stiles enjoy his kinky, hot, BDSM-inclined, control-disbalanced sexual life. Derek is sooo glad nobody can hear his desparate sob right now.  
So when his thoughts are interrupted by fresh traces of Stiles' scent, he is almost grateful, because now he can concentrate on irritation. Will they ever leave him alone? He inhales deeper, almost against his own will, and starts to differentiate the scent automatically - mint, chocolate, anxiety, arousal, lube, cum, blood... Blood? Is Stiles hurt? Has Peter done something to harm Stiles?  
_Kill Peter. Protect Stiles_.  
He wolfs out and starts to run.

***

"Auch, it stings!!!", Stiles whines, wriggling his bare ass in Peter's lap.

"Of course it would sting, you idiot. Stay still and let me take care of those or I will slap you, scartches or not!"

"Excuse you! It is your fault that I've got the scratches in the first place. And it was your fault that they got soiled with dirt when you decided to switch the position and have me on my back!"

"Maybe I wanted to kiss you while fucking you senseless, you little brat!"

"Kiss my ass, as if you cared about kissing! You wanted me underneath you, control freak that you are!"

"Be thankful you are hurt right now. Once these wounds are healed, I will give you new ones. With a flog".

Peter's tone changes slightly, but it's enough for Stiles to take the hint and go all soft and pliant in Peter's lap.

"Yes, please, Daddy".

Peter smirks and adds almost tenderly.

"Besides it was your idea to fuck in the preserve. I'd prefer to do it somewhere I have a first-aid kit at hand. You humans are so frail".

Stiles opens his mouth to say something undoubtfully stupid in retort (that would definetely earn him the spanking he was secretly hoping for), but has no chance to utter it as the door to Peter's appartment flies across the room and a furious Alpha-shifted Derek bursts into.

***

Stiles would really appreciate if werewolves stopped mandhandling him all the time, really. He means, ok, he's got used to it when Peter does it (and be sure he does it all the time), but what right does Derek have to push him out of the way not too gently just to pin Peter down to the bed and close hands over his throat?

"Wow, Sourwolf! Take it easy there! He is mine and I have plans for tonight which don't include stiching him with a needle to sew his head back to his shoulders"

"Stiles", Peter wheezes out, half-choked.

"Ok, ok, trying to help here! Fuck, Derek, let him go!", Stiles tries to pull Derek back by the shoulder with no visible effect. "Big guy, I mean it, let him go, now!"

"He hurt you! I smelled blood!", Derek growls through his fangs not bothering to look away from Peter.

"No, he didn't. Well, he did, a little bit, but unintentionally, fuck, no, he did intend to, but it's ok with me, well, maybe not too ok this time, but I will be fine, like really. Look, he even attended to the scratches"

This time Derek turns his head to look at Stiles who is wiggling his still bare ass to prove his point. Probably the sight is tempting enough, because his face returns to human form (judging eyebrows, oh how Stiles missed those) and he loosens his grip on Peter. Which, of course, is a huge mistake.  
In one quick movement the disposition changes completely. Now it is Derek pinned down and Peter hovering above him with a murderous stare. They try to kill each other with glances for some time, before Stiles decides to intervene again.

"Ok, now, we all need to calm down, ok? Nobody is hurt and nobody is gonna be hurt. Could you please just stop this dick measuring game and apply the said dicks to some more useful activity? Which means fucking me, of course, if you had any doubts", and Stiles squeezes in between them with almost no effort as Peter, who is above, has nothing against lifting up to help him, and Derek, who is still pinned down, is unable to prevent him.

Stiles straddles astonished Derek with his hips and begins to rub himself on werewolf's body.

"Come on, Der, please, I mean it, please. I want you. I want you to fuck me, want to feel you inside me, want you to mark me as your own. I want both the Hales. Is it too much to ask?", Stiles whines planting quick kisses along Derek's jaw line.

Peter chuckles softly from behind him, "Greedy boy! Come on, Derek. He needs us both. Me - to hurt him, you - to comfort him afterwards. I will fuck him rough, the way he craves it sometimes, and you will make sweet gentle love to him, the way he occassionally needs it too. How can we deny any part of it to our darling? We will complete each other - and he will be happy". Stiles backs Peter's speech with a happy moan.

"Ok", Derek's voice is barely audible. "Ok, let's do it".

"Fucking finally!", Peter hisses and as he pulls Stiles' head by the hair to direct him all the way down to Derek's crotch. Stiles barely restarains from a happy squeal as he starts unbuttoning Derek's jeans.

"I am about to show you how dirty my mouth can be, Der", Stiles looks up to Derek and licks his lips.

Peter roughly pushes him into Derek's still jeans-covered crotch while his other hand slides to Stiles' ass cleft.

"Hurry up, little one, talk less, do more".

"Yessir", Stiles mumbles and finally unzips Derek's jeans to release his fully hard dick.  
But before he is able to taste it, a firm, but genle hand stops him. What is it? Does Peter have three hands now? All the opportunities...

"Stiles, stop!", Derek says. "Are you ok with this?"

"What again?! I have already said I am. Are you gonna ask every time we touch each other?"

"I just wanted to make sure you are doing it willingly, that it is not because Peter makes you."

Peter snorts and rolls away in one swift movement to sit on the other side of the bed.

"Out" He says tiredly. "Get out, Derek. I am very dissapointed in you".

The look on Derek's face is priceless. Really Peter shouldn't enjoy it so much. It is like beating a puppy.

"You are not worth all the efforts. Release him, Stiles". To Derek's surprise Stiles slides off him without a word of complain.

"I have mistaken in you. You are no fun at all".

Derek looks helplessly at Stiles, but the teen refuses to meet his eyes.  
Peter on the opposite watches very intently as Derek gets up and adjusts his disheveled clothes.

"And Derek"

"Yes?", Derek glances up to Peter almost hopefully.

"You owe me for that door".

Derek's inner wolf cries as he leaves the appartment.

***

"Peter, what if you are wrong? What if he never comes back?"

"I am never wrong. And he will come crawling on his belly, little one. The trap is set. He is about to step into it".

"How about a nice long fuck while we are waiting?"

"You are insatible. I will probably have to express my gratitude to Derek when he finally agrees to share the burden of satisfying you".

"Would you mind to replace him with a dildo till then?"

"Not in the slightest, little one. Your wish is my command".

***

Derek is tortured by his dreams. He would say his nightmares, but they aren't actually nightmares, because it is not the scenes he sees that scare him, it is his reaction to these scenes. He is scared to close his eyes, because once he is asleep, he falls down, down, down, all the way to that dim-light room with nothing but a huge bed. There are two bodies on that bed, mixture of limbs, impossible to distinguish which one belongs to whom. He never sees the faces, but he hears their voices. One of a boy moaning in pain or pleasure, hard to tell, and the other of a man commanding him to submit. The arms are stretched towards Derek, the boy pleads him to come and caress him, the man orders him to obey.  
Derek wakes up with a scream.

***

"Why are you here, nephew?", Peter asks cocking his head to the side.

Derek keeps silent, eyes glued to his shoes. He stands on the doorstep of Peter's bedroom unable to decide if he should come in or to run away as far as possible.

"Why are you here, Derek?", Peter raises his voice just a little, but is enough for Stiles to flinch and for Derek to shrink.

"You know why", Derek manages to utter.

"Do I indeed?", God, how can a man's smirk be so disgustingly attractive?

"In or out, Derek. Decide. Now!", Peter proceeds. He has figured that the best way to communicate with Derek is to offer him short and simple commands.

Derek steps in, but still refuses to speak or to meet their eyes.

"Very well. Now you are in. And now you can tell us what you are here for. Loud and clear".

Derek throws a helpless glance at Stiles, probably hoping for the rescue, but if so, his hopes are crushed into pieces.

"You talked so mush about consent, Der. Now we are not doing anything without your written and sighned statement".

Derek groans in despair.

"Stiles, Peter, please!"

Peter crosses his arms over the chest.

"You came here by your own will. Last time I told you to get out because we are not interested anymore. Still you came here, yourself. It has certain consequences."

"What consequences?", Derek swallows.

"You obey the rules. My place, my scene, my Stiles - my rules. Is it clear?"

"Yes".

"If you decide to stay and participate, you agree to do it wholeheartedly. No more  
remorse, no more moral torments, no more doubts, you are into it. Is it clear?"

"Yes"

"What is it you decide?"

"I stay"

"Glad to hear that", really, any snake should be jealous of the amount of venom in Peter's voice. "Now, pray, tell us what it is you are here for".

"I am..", Derek stumbles.

"Look. Into. My. Eyes."

"I am here to.."

"I am losing my patience".

"I am here to watch you fuck Stiles. And to make love to him myself. If he says that it is what he needs, so be it. I do want him to be happy", this time Derek's voice is clear and firm . That's a right thing to do and he feels much better once he finally aсcepted it.

Peter's eyes are softened and he throws his arms open in a welcoming gesture.  
"That's my baby. Come here. Stiles, get him undressed."

***

Peter keeps himself markedly away from Derek as Stiles hastily gets him out of the clothes and pushes him impatiently towards the bed.

"Are you familiar with color system, Derek?", he asks positionimg himself comfortably in the armchair in the far corner of the room.

Derek frowns slightly as he sees that Peter has no intention to undress and join them and looks away to conceal his disappointment.

"I have done my research", he answers.

"Charming. So just to make sure - red is for stop, yellow is for stop and discuss and green is for proceed. If your mouth is occupied otherwise and you need to safeword, give Stiles a pinch on the ass, he hates that and will bitch for an hour at least, so you will have your time out. Are you ok with the rules so far?"

"Yes"

Peter hesitates for a second, but decides not to push it. He will probably try to train Derek to call him "Sir" later.

"You will also refrain from talking tonight unless you want to safeword. You will answer the questions when asked and leave judging speeches until the scene is ended. Moanings and pleadings however are encouraged. Is it okay with you?"

"Yes"

"Great. I want to watch Stiles fuck you up your ass. Colour?", Peter's tone is impassive, almost indifferent. Derek moves his head to look at Stiles who is grinning enthusiastically by his side.

"Green", Derek exhales weakly, but Peter hears him.

"Very well, face down on the bed, ass in the air".

Derek can't be more grateful that the proposed position enables him to hide his face, even if it means that his most intimate parts are exposed to two pairs of greedy eyes. For some time nothing happens and then he realizes that Stiles is waiting for his instructions as well.

"Do you remember what I taught you, little one?", Peter is far from impassive when talking to Stiles, his voice all silk and danger. "Use your tongue on him"

Derek shudders as he feels the small kittenish licks at his balls, taint and - oh his hole. Stiles barely touches it with the very tip of his tongue, then again, and again, and again, swift small movements, sending electrical impulses up and down Derek's spine. Oh God. If this is what Peter taught him, Derek forgives his uncle willingly for the hell he went through during the last month.

"Ow ow ow", Derek jerks as Stiles laps at his hole in a long and slow movement and shoves the very tip inside.

"Use a finger as well, here is the lube".

Derek whines and pushes his ass back, missing the feeling of a hot tongue pressed against his entrance as Stiles turns around to catch the tube tossed to him across the room. He is soon rewarded by the added pressure of a lubed finger inside him, pushing in and out and then - oh God - tugging so that the wet tongue can now slide inside.

"Clench on it, Derek, come on, clench on his tongue", Peter commands and Derek obeys, really, his world is so simple and relatable right now. He wants to stay in it forever.

In what indeed feels like an eternity, a second finger is added, and then a third, stretching him under Peter's strict guidance. By the end of it Derek is about to beg Peter to leave the armchair and check himself if he is finally ready to get fucked.  
At last Peter has some mercy on him. He stands up, approaches the bed and pulls Stiles up into his arms.

"Here, baby boy, let me prepare you", he murmurs and picks up the lube.

Derek twists his head to watch them. Oh God. Oh God. Stiles reclines on Peter's chest, head thrown back on werewolf's shoulder, eyes closed and the mouth half-open. Derek has never seen anything so beautiful. Stiles is caressing Peter's neck while his dick is attended to by long and slender fingers, slicking it with lub. Derek has to turn away and to bite the nearest pillow, because he feels that he can come right here and now, just from the sight of his uncle preparing Stiles' dick for his ass.

"Ready, sweetheart?", Peter asks tenderly and Derek is not quite sure who he is addresing now. In any case he presses his face into his folded arms and tries to lift up his butt a little more just to emphasize his readiness.  
A hand too large to be Stiles' pats him on his ass-cheek and Derek shivers.

"Good boy", Peter says, smirk audible in his voice.

Stiles whines slightly, probably wanting to be praised too. Peter takes the hint and diverts his attention to the teen.

***

Stiles has died and gone straight to heaven. He has three reasons to think so. First - Derek's perfect round ass stuck out in front of him in an undoubtful invitation. Second - Peter's hand on his dick, stroking him firmly and yet tenderly, tenderness being not exactly the thing Peter shows him too often. And finally the third - the three fingers fucking him non-too-gently from behind in tantalizing contrast to the hand on his dick.  
Yes, Stiles must have been really good to deserve it, he thinks, as Peter pushes him forward and positions Stiles' dick against Derek's swollen hole. He should make sure that he stays good in the future, he thinks, but it is the last sane thought he is to have that evening as Peter pushes him into Derek, simulteneously pressing the right spot inside him.  
He wants to stay there, wants to enjoy the tightness around him longer, wants to caress Derek's spine, to give him time to adjust himself on his cock, but Peter is implacable. He moves the fingers inside Stiles' ass and urges him out. And then in. And then out again. Fuckfuckfuck. It feels incredible. It feels just like Stiles is some kind of sex toy Peter uses to fuck Derek with.  
Derek squirms and moans from underneath him and tries to reach for his own cock, but Peter's growl stops him.

"None of it! It is all about Stiles tonight, not about you. Take what he gives you, Derek! Stay still for our boy". Derek utters a short sob, but obeys.

"Peter, please!", Stiles whines.

"What is it, baby boy? You don't like it? Let us change the position then."

"No, not that. Please, let him come too. I want him to feel good, want him to come on my dick", Stiles moans as Peter presses his nails into his most sensitive spot.

"Well, if you want it so badly, I assume, I can allow it this time", Peter rolls his eyes. "Touch him yourself".

Stiles doesn't wait for second invitation. He reaches down to get a grip on Derek's dripping dick and starts getting him off.

"Fuck, Daddy, I am close".

"Harder. Faster", Peter commands into Stiles' ear and proceed louder for Derek:

"Is it ok, Derek? Can Stiles come into your ass?". Mocking devil. Stiles adores the man.

Derek mumbles something unintelligible, but Peter won't have it.

"Loud and clear, Derek, before I make you write it down and sign".

"Yes, please, let him come into my ass", sobs Derek.

"Nice phrasing", Peter smirks. "Ok, baby boy. You can come now. Fill him up with your cum".

Stiles thrusts once again into Derek and spills into his ass as he feels Derek's body shuddering in orgasm underneath him. They cry out in unison and collapse on the bed, sweaty, messy and happy.

***

Peter is nowhere near selfless. So he doesn't let Stlies even a second of the afterglow before dragging him off Derek, off the bed and all the way to the armchair. He pauses only to unzip his own trousers and to pull out his painfully hard dick.

"Here little one, spread your legs for me. Sit on your Daddy's cock", he positions still shuddering teen on his lap, legs wide apart, facing the bed.

"Come on, baby boy, don't keep me waiting", Peter commands, amused by Stiles state - unable to move a limb or to talk for once the teen just sits on his lap, probably grinning stupidly. Under usual conditions Peter would give him a second or two to recover his breath, but their little encounter has left almost nothing of his praised patience. So he just grabs Stiles by the hips, lifts him up a bit and yanks him down onto his dick.  
The teen hisses in protest as he is still too sensitive from his own orgasm, but Peter pays no attention. He knows very well by now that his boy loves being manhandled and that he can come for the second time straight after the first helping with a little encouragement. Speaking of which.

"Derek, are you gonna just lay there and watch?", Peter asks moving Stiles up and down his dick, god bless supernatural power.

Derek, who managed to shift on the bed so that he is on his stomach facing them, his eyes wide-open and pulse audible possibly even to Stiles, cannot find his words at first.

"What... what should i do?"

"Isn't it obvious? Kneel and suck him off! Poor baby could do with some caresses while I am splitting him apart on my dick", and to prove his point Peter thrusts his hips up and Stiles cries out in despair.

"Don't worry, he likes it. He has a safeword too, right, baby?"

"Yeah, Daddy", Stiles sobs.

"Do you wanna use it now, sweetheart?"

"No, please, Peter, I need your dick", Stiles says as he starts moving on his own, impaling himself on Peter no less violently than Peter would want him to.

Stiles stretches a hand towards Derek and says almost timidly:

"Come, Der. Do as he tells you. I want it, I need it, please"

Peter smiles to himself. Really he did a good job training this boy. So cunning.  
Derek is absolutely smitten by the plea in Stiles' voice as he comes sheepishly towards them and kneels in front of Peter.

Hell yes.

Peter cannot see if his nephew is any good at giving blowjobs, but Stiles seems to like it as he starts moving faster, obviously approaching his secong orgasm. If Peter concentrates and keeps himself in control, he will probably be able to give him a third one by proceeding to fuck him after that...

Derek places both hands on Peter's knees. Probably just to steady himself, but also probably he doesn't know any more who he is sucking off now. Maybe he doesn't care any more. Maybe he wants it to be Peter as well.  
This thought brings Peter over the edge and he comes, comes and comes and then there is darkness.  
When he returns to his senses a few minutes later, Stiles, fucked into oblivion finally, is already cared for - taken from his lap and positioned carefully on the bed. Derek is about to clean him with a towel when Peter stops him.

"Wait a sec. I see you are hard again. Never thought you have a thing for sucking dicks. Perhaps we could attend to this particular kink of yours later. Now, however, you need to come. Jerk off over him".  
Derek flushes and wants to retort, but Peter puts a finger over his lips.

"Shhh. Scene is not over until you come. Obey the rules. Keep silent and do as you are told".

"Will you...will you talk me through it, Peter?", Derek asks hesistantly.

"Sure thing!", Peter answers a little more harshly then necessary, still secretly regreting that he let Derek witness his falling apart.

"He will wake up in the morning, all hard and hungry again, you know. I told you, he is an insatiable little thing", Peter starts softly as he watches Derek jerking his dick. "He will reach for you, possibly will start riding you while you are still half-asleep".

Derek moans loudly enough and Stiles stirrs in his sleep.

"First he will suck on you, will make you all hard and ready for him to sit on your dick. Once you are, he will lower himself on it all way down and start moving, looking at you shyly from under his lashes as if asking for your permition. If you allow him, he will move bolder, faster. Or you can flip him over and set your own pace, caressing and kissing him, drawing sweet moans out of his mouth. He will come first, he is so eager to feel your dick inside him that he won't last, but don't worry, I will make him take care of you too. His deep-throating skills are still in need of some improvement. Would you be willing to participate in our training session? Answer me, Derek", Peter's voice suddenly goes from soft and silken to growling and intimidating. Never lose a chance to growl at your Alpha, here is Peter's new motto.

"Yes, yes, please", Derek growls in responce. "I am close, Peter. May I come, please?" He looks like a madman, lost in his pleasure and need.

Peter's eyes turn blue.

"You may. Come all over him. Mark him as your own".

***

Cum is everywhere. His, Peter's, Stiles'. Derek watches Peter in fasciation as he mixes it on Stiles's belly, rubbing their combined scent into the pale skin.

"Shouldn't we clean him?", he asks Peter in whisper unwilling to disturb Stiles peaceful sleep now that he can control himself.

"What is the point? He will get all dirty again once he wakes up. Besides he smells delectable, don't you think?

"Yes", Derek smiles. Peter watches him in amusement.

"The scene is over, nephew. You don't have to agree with me on everything now".

"I know. But we don't have to argue all the time either, uncle", Derek answers softly as Peter covers them all with a blanket and puts an arm over Stiles in a possessive gesture.  
Derek inner wolf growls.  
_Mine. Mine?_  
Peter meets his gaze and smirks in the way Derek would call caring, if he didn't know better.

"Ours", Peter says firmly and Derek puts his hand on Stiles' chest too, interwining his fingers with Peter's.

 _Ours_. His inner wolf is content.

**Author's Note:**

> Thinking of adding a few more parts to it:) Peter deserves more fun:)


End file.
